The Abuse of Power

by a campbell

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The autumn sun was high in the sky, birds were trilling around the Kent farm, and outside a crisp fall day was shaping up. Clark fastened the last button on his shirt, drew back from his bedroom window, and whistled, low, as he looked at his watch. Late already. He didn’t want to keep Lex waiting too long.

He tiptoed down the stairs, wishing they were carpeted, just hoping hard that he wasn’t going to run into Mom or Dad on the way out.

No such luck.

“About time, Sleepyhead. Your dad’s already left for Jefferson County. ”

Martha’s pleasant voice assailed him from the kitchen. She sat at the dining table poring over bills.

Earlier than usual, Clark thought in dismay, heart plummetting almost into his shoes, but he turned to his mother with a smile that he tried to make as engaging as he could. “Thanks for letting me sleep in today, Mom. Thank Dad, too, when you see him.” He grabbed an apple from a bowl on the table, polished it quickly on his sleeve, and bent down to give her a quick kiss on her hair. She ran arm around him as he crunched into the apple and chomped.

“You deserved it, Honey.” She stood up and folded him in her arms for a bigger hug.

The parent-alarm bell in Clark’s skull began a warning jangle that was almost as loud as a signal from a Kryptonian artifact. Whenever Martha was this cheery-sweet, she usually wasn’t just being nice. She wanted something.

He swallowed his mouthful of apple bits, put both hands over Martha’s chapped ones and gently eased himself from her arms with a nervous, wary smile, then turned to pluck his denim jacket from the back of the chair, laying the half-eaten apple on the counter.

“Clark, Sweetie, I could really use your help today.”

I knew it, cringed Clark with a small internal moan of frustration.

He turned back to face his mother, smiling and shaking his head simultaneously. “No, Mom, sorry, I can’t. Not today. Plans with Lex. And I’m late already.”

“I don’t remember anyone giving you permission to go to Lex’s today.”

“I didn’t think I needed it,” Clark’s gaze darkened with alarm, his voice fading into a whine. “I did all the important chores last night. Swept the barn, cleaned the henhouse. Everything’s all neat and tidy. No worries.”

“Well. How about if you help me out for a bit before you go, and then you can bring Lex back here for dinner later tonight. I’ll even make that dutch apple pie he likes so much.”

Clark hesitated. He did owe Mom a big favor from last week, when she’d walked in on him and Lex necking in the kitchen and not said anything to Dad about it. And he had to stay on her good side for the next couple of weeks, until after he’d asked if he could go with Lex to Metropolis over Memorial Day weekend. Lex had tickets to the Cold concert, and had promised they could go to IHOP for breakfast both mornings so Clark could have his fill of pancakes for once. It might be worth his while to be extra nice to Mom, and generous with his time today.

And Lex would get a decent supper, real food instead of pure alcohol for a change. And there’d be extra time with Lex later tonight. A bonus! Who could argue with that? Might not be such a bad deal.

Still, Clark didn’t want to make it too easy for her. He tried his best to look doubtful, reluctant. “Dad won’t mind?”

“I’ll take care of your father,” Martha assured him. Clark wanted to ask exactly how she was going to do that, but really, that was good enough for him. Martha could handle
Jonathan like no one else.

“Okay. Just so it doesn’t take too long. I want to—“

“That’s fine, dear. I promise you’ll have time for everything.”

***

Clark scanned the length of his mother’s list and blanched.

“Mom,” he whined, with a slight stamp of a sneakered foot, his gaze darkening with desperation..

Martha paid no heed as she plucked the paper from his fingers and spread it flat on the kitchen counter. “Okay, first I need you to zip over to Fordman’s and pick me up some white thread for the new curtains I’m sewing for the kitchen.”

Clark frowned. “Weren’t you going to Fordman’s tomorrow, anyway? Why do I have to go today?

“Because I’m asking you to. You can be there and back in under five minutes. That way, I’ll be able to have the curtains hemmed and finished this afternoon.”

Clark fumed. “Why is it that so important?”

“Clark, I really can’t stand this plaid for one more day. It clashes with everything! All your shirts, and your father’s…” Martha spread her arms and shrugged. “Besides, don’t forget you’re having company for dinner tonight.”

“Mom, Lex couldn’t care less about what curtains are on the windows.”

“Lex has good taste, Clark. Appreciation for lots of things.”

He thought a moment and thought maybe they’d better move on from that topic. The sooner they got started, the sooner he could get over to Lex’s.

“Okay. I’ll do it,” he agreed.

And vanished in a blip.

***

“Here you go.” Clark set the spool of thread down on the kitchen table, beaming and smug. Three and a half minutes.

“Oh, Clark, I’m sorry. You were gone before I could remind you. I needed you to get a new package of needles, too.”

“Mom! You’re not making me go back to Fordman’s just for needles?”

She smiled, and he raised eyebrows and flashed a tense grin back. “Are you?”

“I can’t sew without them. Please?”

***

“Okay, here’s the pack of needles. Anything else?” He offered the thin paper package with a wide, fake smile.

His mom plucked the package from his hand without glancing up.“Just zip up to the loft and get my pinking shears for me. They should be on your desk by the latest stack of self-help books from the library.”

Clark’s expression darkened to a suspicious glare. “What were you doing in my loft with pinking shears, Mom?”

“Fixing the upholstery on your couch. Don’t worry. I didn’t look at anything. I respect your privacy, dear.”

“Good. Because I like everything up there the way it is.”

“I know, and that’s your right. It’s your private place. Good heavens, though, I don’t know what you’ve been doing up there. The sofa is practically falling apart!”

“Okay, Mom. If that’s all, I have to go now. Lex is waiting for me.”

“Oh, no, you don’t, young man. We’re just getting started! You didn’t pay much attention to that list, did you? Next in line is mopping the kitchen floor.”

***

“Mom, I know mopping the floor is your most hated job, but the floor really wasn’t that dirty. I could have done it tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry, Clark. I won’t keep you too much longer. But I’ve been wanting to rearrange the living room furniture for months, now.

“Oh, Mom, please! Not this afternoon!

“Come on, honey. It’s so much easier for you to move these heavy pieces than it is for me.”

“But, Mom...”

***

“Okay, Mom, we’ve rearranged the furniture now…uh… six times.

I know. But I’d still like the hutch in a better place. I just don’t think it looks right by the entryway.”

“Mom, without superpowers, I’d be exhausted. Tried six different arrangements; now it’s back the way it was. Plus you had me do the laundry, dry the dishes, and paint the porch railing! That’s more than taking advantage: that’s abuse.”

“Okay, Sweetheart. Just one more thing, then you can go off and enjoy your afternoon.”

“What’s left of it,” Clark’s voice was somewhere between a grumble and a pout..
.
Martha rummaged in her purse, pulling out hairbrush, mints, and, finally, billfold.
“I need you to run over to Dairy Queen and get me one of those sundaes with the peanuts and hot fudge. Not a small one: the biggest one they have. Don’t forget to order it with lots of whipped cream and a cherry, too. I’ve been craving one of those all week.” She held out her wallet with a smile.

Clark was silent for a moment, his gaze darkening with horror. “Mom. You’re not pregnant again, are you?!”

“No, sweetheart, of course not. I just want—no, need-- chocolate and ice cream!”

He sighed with relief, then scowled. “Mom,” he fumed, “If I were a regular guy, you’d have to buy me a car.”

Martha reached up and gave his cheek a little pinch. “As long as you have these abilties, we might as well use them,” she said sunnily. She settled back in the recliner, reached for the morning paper, and took a long sip of iced tea. “Hurry back, Sweetie! Buy one for yourself, too. But be sure to zip them back here before they melt.”

Clark thought for a long moment, but couldn’t come up with a single argument. Just another grin. “Two Peanut Buster Parfaits, coming right up, Mom.”

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